


The Handmaiden's Contract

by TheSinfulwolf



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood Drinking, F/F, Multi, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22200376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinfulwolf/pseuds/TheSinfulwolf
Summary: Olivia is invited to the Castle of Duchess Lyv Drakhel. Within she will discover the court of vampires is full of lust and seduction, and that which may be taboo is flaunted openly.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	The Handmaiden's Contract

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers. This is my first go at posting to AO3. This is intended to be a slight peak into a larger world that I hope to explore more thoroughly someday, but, for now I hope you enjoy.

The moon was bright tonight, with barely any clouds to obscure the brilliance of the stars. The weaving band of green and blue lights were almost magical in their beauty, lending a light to the world that almost tempered Olivia’s nervousness. 

Wandering the streets of the city alone at night though, had her almost paranoid. She’d prefer to be back at the brothel, where the flickering flames in sconces, and candles on bedside tables, kept the night at bay. Where the clink of coin and the unloving thrusts of clients allowed her to pretend things would be okay. Even if she had no one anymore. Now that her parents were long buried, and her husband’s corpse served in the Duchess’s army. 

The invitation from the Duchess Erika herself had been a surprise, and now Olivia found herself out here on the streets making her way towards the castle. If she were near the walls she might hear the howls of the dire wolves, or the wails of ghosts within the forest that surrounded this place. Isolated and alone. Much like Olivia herself. 

Approaching the portculis of the castle, Olivia glanced to the two skeletal guards standing on either side. Their spears didn’t waver, and their empty sockets stared at her approach. A cold shiver crawled up her spine as she presented her invitation to the one on the left. She could not fathom how it read, but it regarded the parchment, then its ever grinning visage shifted to look forward again.

They said nothing, made no gestures, and for a moment Olivia was unsure what to do. She stood there in the night, between two undead guards. The wind tugged at her hair and her skirts, and the chill began to creep into her skin.

Eventually she took a tentative step forward. The guards did nothing to stop her, so she moved through the portcullis and into the carefully tended courtyard. While her feet followed the carefully cobbled pathway, her eyes swept the colourful gardens and gargoyle statues that adorned the shorn lawn. Stopping at the double oaken doors, Olivia was unsure whether to let herself in or knock. She stood there, looking at the iron bars that reinforced the castle’s proper entrance.

Taking in a breath, Olivia reached out and pressed her hand to the right door. Just before her skin pressed to the cold wood, the hinges creaked and both doors slowly swung inwards. Beyond lay the antechamber of the castle, a plush red carpet running up the centre towards the doors Olivia guessed would open to the great hall.

Standing on the threshold, Oliva took her first few steps inwards, until she could feel that carpet beneath the thin soles of her shoes. Behind her, the doors groaned as they swung shut. Turning, Olivia could see nothing to have actually closed them. A shudder ran up her spine and she began moving forward once more, even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

No one came to greet her. No voices called to her. No dead men stared and beckoned. 

She was alone. 

Letting her eyes crawl along the walls, she saw vibrant tapestries of black and violet depicting the sigils of Aenkleth, and the Clan. Between them stood empty suits of armour holding to halberds. The plates of metal were polished to a shine that reflected the blue balefire flickering in their iron sconces. A few doors were tucked in behind carved columns that ran floor to ceiling. There was no heat in here, and goosebumps rose along her arms.

Crossing her arms across her chest she stepped quicker, unable to shake the feeling of being watched. She stopped in front of the next doors, and pressed her hand to them. Nothing happened. 

She felt eyes upon her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw nothing. Just the empty hall. Just the carpet, armour, and balefires. The blue flames casting their cold glow over the stone. Turning back, she grasped the ring of the door and pushed. The well oiled hinges made not a sound as it opened to another chilled room lit by a balefire chandelier. 

The grand hall of Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel.

It was wider than the antechamber, and windowless. Two long tables, dusted and clean, ran the length of the chamber, with enough room between for guests to comfortably gather. At the head was a shorter table, with seats for only six, the two chairs in the middle taller than the others. There were more columns along the walls, casting tall shadows to partially obscure the exits, and more banners. 

There were also two women standing near one such column. Their pale sharp visages turned towards the main entrance. Clad in tight dresses of rich red and black they were close to one another. The shorter of the two, her silvery blonde hair braided from her temples to fall down her back, had her own dress pulled off the shoulder to expose a breast. Even from here, Olivia could see two thin lines of crimson running from just above her nipple. 

The other, her hair a red so rich only dyes could have accomplished it, had her locks pulled into a high bun before spilling down her back. Her dark lips glistened in the balefire light, and the slightest smudge of blood just beneath her smile.

“My, my. And who are you?” the blonde said in a sensuous purr, and Olivia felt her mouth go dry. Fear and desire clashed in her as the women slid away from each other and towards her. Their movements feline, predatory. Those seductive curls of the lips never dropping from their features as they came ever closer. The blonde only seemed to tuck her breast away as an afterthought, though the cleavage her dress offered left little to the imagination.

A hand gliding along Olivia’s cheek had her turning towards the red headed vampire, now at her side. Her green eyes bearing into Olivia’s own, promising pleasures untold, and death. The tips of her fangs, peeking from behind those blood glinting lips, promised the same things. Olivia’s mouth opened and closed, as she felt the soft form of the blonde woman against her. Turning her head, Olivia felt the press of a bust against her. Felt the brush of the braid dragging over her own as the blonde leaned in. Her nostrils flaring as she sniffed, sensing the life pulsing through Olivia’s veins.

“I... I was invited,” Olivia finally managed, looking again to the red head. Feeling the tip of the blonde’s nose gliding up her neck. The ghosting of lips without the familiar caress of breath soon reaching the edge of her jaw.

“And who invited you, pretty little morsel?” the red head purred, making Olivia want to flee. Making her want to be pulled into her embrace. She didn’t move, letting them toy with her, and Olivia was reminded again of cats. 

“The duchess,” Olivia managed, her eyes locked into that green gaze. 

She felt the graze of fangs, running along her jawline until the blonde’s upper lip grazed the lobe of her ear. A soft little groan spilled from Olivia then, making the red head’s smile widen, showing more of her fangs. More of those promises and pleasure and death. Heat swelled in her loins, while fingertips danced up her spine, before sharp claw like nails grazed the base of her neck. Each touch sending shivers.

“A shame. You smell delectable. I don’t think the Duchess would mind us taking a small sample,” the red head said, leaning in. Olivia watched those glinting fangs get closer, even losing track of those gorgeous eyes. Her heart pounded, as she felt a tongue gliding over her neck. Cool and wet upon the skin, and sending its own shivers to her loins.

“Perhaps not normally m’ladies. But this one is to be a gift. The Duchess wishes her unsoiled,” a calm voice said from the far end of the hall. Glancing over tables and into shadows, Olivia saw a slender middle aged woman stepping into the light. Her own dress was plainer than those the vampire pair wore. The blue not as rich, the fabric heavier and not as flattering. 

“As the Duchess wishes,” the red headed vampire said, not taking her eyes from Olivia’s neck. She was close enough that Olivia would have felt a human’s breath. But there was none, just the scent of perfumes and the underlining tang of blood. Her tongue ran out, running along Olivia’s lips. 

“Have no fear pretty morsel. You may be able to savour my bite on another night,” she said, only then peeling away. The blonde followed suit, her fingertips gliding across Olivia’s lower back. 

Standing there a moment, she tried to recollect her thoughts. To sort her mind. Her heart was still pounding, and her skin tingling from the touches. The heat between her legs almost demanded attention. A cold sweat had her skin glistening. She was relieved at the intervention, and frustrated by it. 

“Please, take your time. I can see this is your first encounter so close with a vampire, and the first is always... something to remember,” the woman said, and Olivia found herself nodding though she was still looking forward. To where the red headed vampire had stood but a moment ago. She settled a hand over her chest, letting out long breaths through pursed lips.

“My name is Helge. I am handmaiden to Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel. I too remember my first time. It is certainly, terrifying, yet to me holding an eroticism that still has yet to fade,” the other woman drew in a long breath and Olivia finally looked to her, seeing more details in her visage now that she was standing so close. The crow’s feet at her eyes, the pale pink scars on her neck. Olivia guessed that there were more, but her dress concealed much of her skin, likely because of the castle’s chill.

“Olivia. My name is Olivia,” she told the handmaiden, who only smiled. It was a friendly one, welcoming and warm. Somewhat of a relief after the near sensory assault of those feline grins from the vampire nobles.

“I know. My Mistress asked me to come retrieve you here. In case some of the other residents found you. But, if you are ready, please follow me,” Helge said, gesturing with one hand as she turned towards the back of the room. 

Hoping her flush had finally died down, though her heart was still hammering in her breast, Olivia followed. Stepping into the darkness of the shadows and hearing only the whisper of the door opening. Helge’s footfalls made no sound as she started up the revealed stairwell behind the door. The handmaiden herself was more akin to the shadows than a breathing woman, though Olivia had seen her chest rising and falling. She swallowed, and started up the stairs, making sure to close the door behind her.

In here the sconces were rare, and great swathes of darkness made the climb slow and difficult for Olivia. Ahead of her Helge often had to pause, glancing back to ensure the young woman was keeping up. She seemed entirely unbothered by the dark. Olivia wondered if she would be this way in a few years, when the lines of age began to etch themselves into her skin.

They passed a few landings, the doors leading back into the castle proper closed. Olivia felt lost. Unsure of where she was being led. Eventually Helge stopped, opening a door and moving through into a corridor. More columns, a few empty suits of armour, a few sconces of balefire, but no banners, no carpets. 

“This floor is for my Mistress, and her sister when she spends time here at the castle. Which is often,” Helge explained, once Olivia had walked out. Hearing exactly where she was, she felt her heart starting to beat faster again. Helge’s stony expression cracked, a slight curl of the lips. 

“Come. She is expecting you,” the handmaiden said, walking down the corridor. It was still chilled, perhaps more so this high up. Olivia could hear the gentle slide of her shoes on the stone floors, but heard not a sound from her guide. She wondered how she had learned to move like that. 

The thoughts were cut short when Helge stopped at yet another door and opened it, before she estured for Olivia to enter. She took a breath, knowing the Duchess was in the room beyond. She stepped forward, entering yet another unknown, and Helge made no move to enter. The door closed behind Olivia, letting her look around.

The room looked to be a study of some sort. A single candle flickered with balefire, but most of the light came from the moonlight streaming in through the large window that overlooked the countryside. Thick black curtains were drawn to the side and bound by red cord. A large desk was nestled towards one wall, facing towards that same window, and the walls were lined with book shelves and paintings. Most of the later Olivia could not make out through the shadows, but the one above the desk showed two women standing beside each other. Each of them beautiful, though there was little to their expressions.

“The rose stood alone and owed, and with time wilted. When through fields once more the blood flowed, the rose stood proud and alighted,” a cool but honeyed voice purred from the shadows, followed by the snap of a book closing.

“Varia Irenea was an astoundingly educated woman, but her poetry left much to be desired. Still, it is a favourite of mine,” the voice continued as a woman emerged from the shadows. The moonlight sliding over her svelte form like water. Her dark dress clung to those curves, the shadows of her cleavage enticing to the eyes. Olivia immediately recognized her from the painting, and knew she was looking upon the Duchess Erika Lyv Drakhel. The woman though, even with her cool gaze, seemed far more full of life than her painting could portray, or that her vampiric status had any right to convey.

“Of course, I primarily partake in her works for her observations in the shifting decorum of the Ryzan court when the Emperor and Empress found themselves cursed. So they claim to be anyway,” Erika continued, moving to one of the bookshelves and sliding the tome she held between two others. Her hair fell over her shoulders and along her back like a silken waterfall of raven black. Olivia found herself staring, trying to keep her jaw closed.

The Duchess stood there a moment, slowly running her finger along the spine of the book. She turned her head, dragging hair over her shoulder and showing the angles of her shoulder blades. Eyes the blue of balefire looked at Olivia, rimmed with dark kohl that made her gaze all the more intense. Her sharp features seemed to be gauging Olivia, who only now remembered to dip into a curtsy.

“Rise. Lift your chin,” Erika said as she seemed to glide across the room. Olivia hurried to meet the demands but soon enough Erika was standing directly in front of her. Her cool hands cupping Olivia’s chin, thumb running across her lips. A shiver of desire ran up her spine. The Duchess seemed to notice, her dark lips curling into a sensuous smile. 

“Olivia Niedenhoff. Orphaned, widowed, and childless. The body of your husband serves in my army, your purse near empty, and knew no trades. So you turned to the brothel and prostitution, and have been earning your keep there these past six months. Tell me, have you learned much there?” Erika said, and before Olivia could bring an answer forth, the Duchess leaned in. Close enough that the smell of jasmine and cedar ran across the prostitute’s awareness. She let out a soft gasp, feeling the bust of the other woman grazing her own, and lips trailing towards her ear.

“From what I can see, you are quite easy to fluster,” she said, her fingertips gliding downwards. Off Olivia’s neck to her own cleavage. Cleanly cut nails ghosted along the edge of the neckline, teasing just under the hem of fabric. Eventually her hand curled, more fingers sliding within the dress.

“Some. Mostly ways to pleasure. And mostly men,” she admitted, feeling that hand gliding further over her breast, starting to push back the neckline of her dress until she was cupped. She felt her own hardened nipple pressing into Erika’s palm. Despite herself, Olivia let out a low groan. She felt Erika’s lips curling against her skin, felt the fangs coming free and pressing just beneath her ear. Her heart was pounding incessantly. A drum within her breast.

“Mostly men. Tell me, do you enjoy your work? Or do you simply take comfort from having someone inside you to cure your loneliness?” Erika said, her lips brushing Olivia’s ear with each word, the occasional graze of a fang cascading shivers through her scalp.

She licked her lips, her hands almost twitching at her sides where she still held to her skirts. Her mind whirled, unused to such a personal question. And feeling the vampire’s body just barely touching her own, the hand now squeezing at her breast, she felt doors opening. Lust and fear now inviting in the sorrow that had plagued her since her husbands death those months ago. Her mouth parted to let free another groan, even as tears welled in her eyes.

“Comfort. The sex is... not usually in my favour. Those times it is, I let myself enjoy it fully,” Olivia admitted, and felt the vampire starting to pull away. Part of her was relieved, much of her wanted it to continue. Even as nails dragged across her breast, leaving her exposed, she felt herself missing the intimate touch.

“I have a proposition for you my dear. A position in my staff,” Erika said, moving towards her desk, and Olivia felt her eyes drawn to the sway of her hips. 

Standing there a moment, watching the vampire, it took almost until the Duchess was at her desk before she hesitantly fixed her dress. Erika sat herself, and beckoned Olivia over with a simple crook of her finger.

“My sister has need of a handmaiden of her own. You will be paid a salary of 2 Krons a month, as well as provided room and board in the servants quarters of the castle. You will be under my employ technically, though you will take no orders from myself. This simply means you will be paid by my Chamberlain, Lady Moira Lyv Targan. You have not met her as yet,” Erika said, bringing over two sheets of parchment cluttered with writing. She recognized the Drakhel seal at the bottom of each with two lines for signatures. It was a contract, and her eyes widened as she realized why she had been summoned.

Leaning back, Erika watched Olivia staring at the contract. Watched the open mouth, and listened to her heart pounding still in her chest. It had only slowed somewhat since she’d broken the touch, but the woman wore her emotions clearly. She had much to learn if she wanted to survive at court, but Erika knew her sister might appreciate something to help her get away from the courtly life.

“Your duties will be to serve my sister, Dame Lyra Lyv Drakhel, during her stays at this castle. This will include bathing, dressing, cleaning. You will be expected to provide some of your blood for her, and sexual intimacy. She may have other duties you are expected to perform, and so long as she is in this castle you will be at her beck and call. You will address her as Mistress, and you will obey her over all others, even if their standing is higher than her own. Do you agree to these terms?” Erika said, watching as Olivia’s eyes ran over the parchment, reading every single word. Erika was impressed the woman had enough foresight to check the contract herself, even through the swirling emotions on her face.

Glancing upwards at the painting above the desk, Olivia studied the two women there. On the left was Erika, and from the rumours she’d heard, she had to guess Lyra was the taller woman on the right. Just as sharp featured, same balefire blue eyes that weren’t quite captured with paints, same enchanting lips. But her bearing was more soldierly, disciplined. At least in the painting. The exposed arms in the painting showed more muscle definition, and Olivia found herself imagining those holding her down. 

“I agree,” Olivia said, and Erika raised an eyebrow and curled her lips. Olivia wanted to feel them again.

“Excellent. Please put your signature on the right line,” Erika said, leaning forward, offering a fresh view at her cleavage as she pushed an inkwell and quill towards Olivia. 

The very soon to be former prostitute took the quill, and scrawled her signature on one parchment, then the other. As she finished, she felt a strange relief flowing through her. A hope for some kind of future. But the still burning lust in her loins had helped spur her decision.

As she placed the quill back in the inkwell, Erika smiled, sliding the contract carefully towards herself. She signed her own name upon the left, and then carefully rolled one of the contracts up and tied a gold ribbon around it before handing it towards Olivia. The new handmaiden took it, almost cradling it. 

“This is your copy. The other will be given to my clerks who will then handle any contracts or legal obligations you have to the brothel. Me and Madame Arianne have an understanding with one another. In the morning see the clerks to get your first payment. I expect during the daylight hours for you to find a dress more suited to your position on my staff,” Erika said, rising to her feet and pushing back her chair. 

“Helge will take the other, but my sister should be arriving shortly. Come, let us be ready to greet her,” Erika said, raising her hand, and letting her knuckles slide slowly from the side of Olivia’s neck to her bosom. The handmaiden felt her desires stirring into flames again, and once the hand had fallen offered a curtsy. Erika smiled, turning and walking towards the study’s entrance.

When she stepped out into the hallway, Helge was waiting. Erika leaned in to whisper into the woman’s ear, a hand resting gently on her hip. The familiar stony expression on the elder handmaiden softened slightly at that touch, with the slightest part in her lips. Olivia couldn’t hear the words, but soon Helge was giving a curtsy and taking the second contract and Erika was moving down the hall again. She hurried to keep up, noting that Helge was not following. 

It was not long before they entered another room. The stone here covered in planks of wood, red carpeting covering the centre. There were no windows, but as they entered balefire sconces burst to flickering life. Against the far wall was a large poster bed, sheer black curtains cascading from above. But still Olivia could see the black quilts and pillows. 

There were two armoires, each with their own vanity. The one on the left held far more perfumes and cosmetics, but the area on the right had an empty armour stand, and rungs in the wall for a blade. Taking the two sides in seemed to all but confirm the rumours Olivia had heard of the Duchess and her sister.

Nearly floating as she moved, Erika made her way to her own vanity and armoire. She pulled a few rings from her fingers, carefully placing them upon the vanity. She stood there then, turning her head and looking over her shoulder. A repeat of the study, and Olivia chewed on her lip as she watched.

“Come here. Help me with my dress,” Erika said, and Olivia found herself starting to give a curtsy. The slight downward shift of Erika’s eyebrows though had the handmaiden rising and shuffling forward. 

Pausing just behind the duchess, she managed to tear her eyes away from that gaze. Even looking at the open back of her dress, she felt it. Burning into her soul. Scourging away inhibition as she lifted her hands and brushed Erika’s wave of silken hair over her shoulder. Stepping closer, the handmaiden found the two clasps at the back of the vampire’s dress resting just beneath the exposed shoulder blades. Unsnapping them, she parted the silk, exposing more flawless, snow white skin.

Remembering how those elegant hands had not so long ago slid into her dress, Olivia ran her palms across Erika’s back. Gliding over her shoulder blades and beneath the fine silks. Daring to glance up, those balefire eyes were staring at her. Watching her every motion. 

She was a gift, she remembered Helge saying. It slowly dawned on her that this was a test. Thinking back to her first few weeks in the brothel, when the other girls taught her how to pleasure another woman, Olivia slowly let her eyes return to the expanse of Erika’s back. She let herself appreciate the beauty of the vampire standing before her. From the soft edges of shoulders to the slight rise down the valley of her spine. 

Leaning in, she pressed her lips to the base of Erika’s neck, feeling cool skin, and the soft brush of hair. Parting her lips, Olivia let her tongue glide over the vampire’s skin. She was rewarded with a pleased little sigh, so she began to work her way downwards. Soft kisses trailing the spine, as her hands pushed the dress of Erika’s shoulders, and guided the garment down her arms. More and more of her skin revealed to Olivia’s eyes. 

Down the dress slid, and with it Olivia’s lips and tongue. She found herself falling to her knees, and still pulled the dress with her. Downwards until the dress rested on Erika’s hips, and Olivia was kissing down the small of her back. 

Pausing, Olivia felt her breath catch at the visible cleft of the vampire’s rump in the slight dip of fabric. Erika said nothing though, and so Olivia, on her knees, slowly pulled the dress from the duchess’s hips. Letting her fingers glide downwards, guiding the dress over the swell of her rear. She pressed her lips to each cheek, and earned a quiet murmur from above. Her tongue flicked, and the duchess let out something close to a gasp. 

A smile spread across Olivia’s features as she glanced up. Erika no longer watched her, but instead had her head bowed, hair framing her features. She was savouring the attentions, enjoying the moments. Almost grinning, Olivia continued her journey. Lips trailing alongside fingers, down Erika’s thighs, to her calves, leaving Olivia down on knees and elbows. Her own hips high, as her tongue whipped across the back of the vampire’s legs, and the dress finally ended in a puddle of silk, letting the handmaiden see the duchess was barefoot. 

Slowly, Erika stepped out from her dress. Her second foot lifted back slightly, the arch grazing across Olivia’s cheek. The handmaiden closed her eyes, feeling that skin brushing against her own. 

“Pick it up,” Erika said, her cool honey voice not shifting at all with the command. 

Carefully, Olivia rose to her knees as the vampire turned around. The handmaiden picked up the dropped garment, carefully folding it before looking upwards at the Duchess. At her revealed beauty. At soft curves of her on full unashamed display. Olivia found herself kneeling there, looking up at the woman. Not a flaw that she could see, as if carved from marble and given life. 

Erika bent, ever so slightly. Her finger tip settled beneath Olivia’s chin and began to lift. Feeling a surprising amount of strength there, the handmaiden got her feet beneath her and rose to her feet. Erika smiled, a sultry smirk far less pronounced than the two vampires in the hall, but no less predatory. She moved to the side, her pale skin standing out so starkly in the dark the balefire struggled to keep at bay. Her fingertip trailed from the underside of Olivia’s chin and traced along her jaw line. She leaned in slightly. Close enough that Olivia should have felt her breath.

“Place it in the armoire, bottom shelf. Carefully please, that is Xanderan silk you’re holding,” Erika said, and flicked her tongue along the shell of Olivia’s ear.

Stepping forward, Olivia opened the armoire, showing a collection of gorgeous dresses, all neatly folded upon the shelves. The bottom one was near empty, and Olivia leaned forward to carefully set the expensive dress in her hands away. 

As she stood, Olivia turned back around to find the vampire halfway across the room. Her fingertips dragging along the sheer curtains of the bed. Olivia found herself staring at the woman’s naked back, savouring the dips and curves of her body. Stepping across the room, she stopped as the duchess partially turned. Her breasts grazing the curtains, nipples just out of sight. The teardrop swells drawing the eyes for a brief moment before more honeyed words came forth.

“Take off your dress,” she said, and bit her lip, showing her fangs. Olivia felt yet another shiver of desire crawling along her spine. 

Another few steps closer, her fingers sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders, Olivia thought back to her lessons again. Her arm moved across her bust, keeping up the dress as she slid one arm out. Then switching arms to do the same with the other side. Erika watched with hungry eyes, her fingertips grazing down the curtains, making them sway every so slightly. 

The straps removed, Olivia reached under her obscuring arm, undoing the laces of her own garb. Each pull loosening the material around her. A slight lift of her arm had the material starting to slide downwards. Her tongue tasted the centre of her upper lip, as she felt now bared breasts pressing against the inside of her arm. Her nipples erect and pressing into her own skin. 

The duchess’s eyes dropped from Olivia’s arm, following the pull of the dress towards the ground until it caught around the handmaiden’s hip. The skirts gliding across the floor. The vampire’s eyes flicked upwards, sensing that pounding heart within the woman’s breast. The rush of blood through her veins, the pulse of life in the warmth of her flesh. The excitement in her was as easy to read as a book.

Olivia took a step, moving her legs carefully, letting the fabric work it’s way further downwards. As the bunched material at her hips began to slip, showing the first signs of her mons, Olivia let her arm slip from her breasts. The handmaiden took some pride as the vampire’s fangs pressed into her lips. Even from here Olivia could see the indents of the skin, the glisten of slick ivory. 

As the dress slid downwards along her thighs she stepped high, soon leaving it on the ground behind her. The duchess seemed far less concerned of it being on the floor than her own garment. The handmaiden stopped before the other woman, wearing nothing but her shoes and stockings. The vampire turned then, close enough that she could feel the handmaiden’s heat, and Olivia should have felt hers. Fingertips reached down, and nails ran against Olivia’s thighs through the tops of her stockings. A thumb slid inwards, and pulled gently, and Olivia found herself moving forward until her breasts were pressed to the vampire’s own. She couldn’t hold in her gasp.

“Take off your shoes,” The duchess purred, and Olivia could only nod, on her back foot again. Her lessons had not prepared her for a creature that would reach into her libido and caress it’s core. She lifted one foot, feeling incredibly clumsy as she reached out to support herself against on the bed’s corners. Her heart hammered harder in her chest as she pulled the first shoe free.

Letting it drop to the floor, she let out a breath and glanced to Erika as she put her foot down. The vampire’s gaze watched her, unwavering, unreadable. Those fangs continued to press, making those small indents in the skin. Almost threatening to break through and draw forth the crimson beneath. 

Picking up her other foot, Olivia managed to remove her second shoe, leaving her in the stockings. She was acutely aware of them now, the tops pressing against her thighs. She stood, trying to show the same confidence that Erika seemed to. The duchess though said not a word, just watching. Olivia was unsure if she was withering or melting under those eyes. 

Finally Erika moved. Fluidly closing the short distance between them and cupping the handmaiden’s chin. Her head tilted back, Olivia’s lips parted, her eyes narrowing. Watching that delicious curl of lips before they found her own. Soft and slick, they were gentle against her, the tongue that followed gently slithering forward. Olivia felt herself welcoming the deepening kiss, her hands finding hips against her palms.

As breasts grazed one another, Olivia felt herself leaning back. Their lips continued to caress, as Erika’s tongue danced with the handmaiden’s. Fingers played along her spine, holding her close, the scent of jasmine and cedar consuming her thoughts. A small little moan poured into the kiss, and Olivia knew she was lost to the vampire’s whims. The knowledge did nothing to help her find the mere want to fight against it, so she fell into the sensations of a mere kiss.

The door latch sounded like thunder amidst the wet sounds underlying the soft muffled moans Olivia was letting flow. Her eyes widened a moment as she saw the door opening from the corner of her eye. Erika didn’t stop though, not until the newcomer had entered properly.

There was a thin string of saliva between their lips that quickly broke as Erika pulled away. That lust stirring smirk quickly returning to her features, before her attentions turned from Olivia, who let her own eyes swivel over.

The newcomer closed the door behind her, clad in armour of blackened steel. She had the same sharp features as Erika, though her body was less slender. The arms visible from the peak of mail beneath her pauldrons to the bracers around her forearms held more visible muscle. Where Erika was soft, this woman was hard. The same balefire eyes watched Olivia, and she felt a mouse before the cat. 

Lyra Lyv Drakhel, the thorn to Erika’s petals. Olivia’s own mistress. The handmaiden stood naked, with no skirts to hold for a proper curtsy. So instead she bowed.

“What is this surprise sister?” Lyra said, even her voice coarser, but no less honeyed. No less sensual and desirable. She was the opposite side of the same coin, and Olivia held in a soft whimper.

“A gift. Someone to make your stays at the castle more pleasant, and I hope, longer,” Erika said, her voice not far from where Lyra’s had come from. 

A strong hand took hold of Olivia’s chin. The leather was supple, well cared for, and had a pleasantness of its own against her skin. The bared fingers though were rougher. Calluses from hundreds of years before that would never fade now. The sharp contrast of that single grasp, more so against Erika’s own touch, had Olivia letting out a soft gasp as she was lifted to a stand. She had to tilt her head slightly to look up into the new gaze. 

The curl of the knight’s lips held more humour, but her curious eyes roamed with hunger, and Olivia felt a new shiver coursing up her spine. Her eyes flicked over to Erika, leaning upon her sister’s shoulder, bared arms wrapped around her chest. Her tongue gently running along the length of her neck. 

It seemed the two cared little for whatever rumours carried on the streets and in the taverns. Olivia was just excited to have been invited into it. 

Releasing her handmaiden’s chin, Lyra ran her fingertips downwards along Olivia’s throat. Her nails were not the clean and manicured ones of the duchess. They were short, uneven, and chipped. They felt almost dangerous scraping along skin in thin lines as they trailed downwards to her chest. The handmaiden let out a soft gasp, eyes fluttering at the sensations. In return she heard a soft purr from Erika, who pressed her lips to her sister’s neck.

“Her contract is already signed, her service is yours,” Erika purred softly, and let her tongue flick across the lobe of Lyra’s ear. The knight’s smile was hungry, showing fangs and the thinnest glimmer of teeth. Her fingers had stopped to rest in the centre of Olivia’s chest.

“Is it now. I wonder, how you taste girl,” Lyra said, her eyes dropping from Olivia’s face to her body. Sliding over every curve, appreciating her naked form much as the handmaiden had Erika’s. But the sight of those fangs showed the danger of it. Still she didn’t care.

“You are free to discover at your leisure Mistress,” Olivia said, amazed with how calm her voice sounded. She had no doubts that the sisters knew her excitement. They were reading in, flowing beneath her flesh. 

“Well mannered. Tell me your name,” Lyra said, her fingers curling and gliding over the swell of breast before falling away. She started walking towards her side of the room, leaving handmaiden and sister behind. 

The duchess looked with longing to her sister, but made no move. Instead her eyes bore into Olivia, and the handmaiden soon understood why as the knight unstrapped the belt from her middle, pulling off the strip of leather as well as the sheathed sword attached to it. As Lyra placed her weapon up on the brackets jutting from the wall, Olivia hurried over. Her stocking clad feet making very little noise as Lyra unstrapped her bracers.

There was surprise in Lyra’s face, when Olivia settled her hands upon her shoulders. The knight rose one of her fine eyebrows.

“Please mistress. This is my duty,” Olivia said, and the eyebrow rose slightly further. Her gaze flicked over to her sister, who stood by the bed, letting herself lean against a corner. Her fangs scraping over her right index finger, tongue making the skin glisten. As she met her sister’s eyes, she offered a slight shrug.

Biting her lip, Olivia looked over the armour Lyra was clad in. She was used to tunics and occasionally dresses. Buttons and clasps. Wool and linen, sometimes leather or even rarely silk. But steel was new to her. Until her eyes found the straps, and the clasps, some of it hidden beneath the overlapping metal. Her fingers moved quickly then, undoing everything holding the armour upon the elder sister. The skirts first, the shin length pleated leather, inlaid with strips of metal held on by a belt. Beneath awaited a pair of tight black leather pants. 

The pauldrons next, then the carefully sculpted and shaped cuirass with its silver coloured embossed design that hinted at feminine curves, though little was revealed from the shape armour itself. She licked her lips, as Lyra raised her arms, letting the handmaiden undo the laces and clasps both that held the armour together. Carefully she pulled them off to show the short sleeved mail beneath.

With each piece removed, Olivia guessed as to how to put it upon the display stand. Carefully, with care, much as she had with the Xenderan silk, she set each newly removed piece upon the display stand. Feeling the harsh metal against her soft hands, another contrast between the sisters.

Next came the mail, sliding over Lyra’s head in much less elegant a fashion than Olivia imagined Erika would ever allow of herself. Beneath was a simple linen tunic, laced up the middle. Olivia moved around her mistress, carefully pulling at each of the threads, watching the strip of exposed skin down the centre widen. The handmaiden’s eyes widened as she spotted the rippling muscles across Lyra’s stomach. She could feel both vampires watching her, but refused to let it deter her. When the tunic was opened, Olivia’s hands ran over Lyra’s breasts, cupping them through the brassiere, and pushed upwards to her shoulders. The knight rolled her shoulders back, letting the tunic slide off and down her arms, to drop unceremoniously to the floor. 

After ensuring the armour was carefully placed upon its stand, Olivia reached for the clasps in the front of Lyra’s brassiere. Peeling off that next piece of clothing, revealing the firm breasts of the knight, Olivia let it drop to the floor as well, leaving Lyra in not but pants, gloves, and boots.

About to drop down to work at the boots, she felt those strong hands grasping her rear, pulling her close. Olivia gasped, only to find her lips claimed by the other woman’s, their breasts crushing together. She was pushed back until her thighs hit the edge of the vanity, and Lyra didn’t stop. Lyra pushed until the backs of Olivia’s thighs slid upwards across the edge of the vanity. The handmaiden let her legs wrap around the vampire, and her rump slid across the top, knocking over a few unopened bottles. This time she pushed her own tongue forward, even felt it pass between the knight’s fangs.

“I was wondering when that would happen,” Erika purred, moving closer, until she was running her tongue along her sister’s back. Lyra let out a low moan of pleasure, while her hands explored her gift, Olivia enjoying the contrast of leather and skin roaming her body. The nails that grazed along her back to her sides as she began to grind against the vampiric warrior, letting her lust come fully to the fore. Feeling the supple leather between her legs, smelling the earthen scent mixed with pine that lingered upon the elder sister.

Lyra’s lips were rougher than her sister’s, but she held a hunger in her that sent a thrill through Olivia’s flesh. A hint of danger that had some primal part of her mind full of terror. But the touch of naked skin kept it quiet, in a corner. 

The kiss broke, and Lyra’s head dipped lower. Her lips and tongue trailing down to Olivia’s throat, making the handmaiden tilt her head back. Exposed and vulnerable, she let her eyes open. At first seeing only the dark ceiling above, she had the thought of a coffin’s lid closed upon her. Glance downwards though, she could see the dark hairs of her mistress, shifting slightly as she nibbled and teased along the sides of Olivia’s neck. Each graze of fangs making her think this would be the bite, each one pressing on skin, threatening to break through.

Behind, Erika stood, the coy lip bite held in place. She watched Olivia’s reactions, watched the pleasures showing across her flesh. Her fingertips playing across her sister’s bared back, tracing lines with familiar sensual touch. 

Then the duchess leaned in. Her tongue sliding along Lyra’s ear, her lips peeled back just enough for Olivia to see the glint of fangs. 

“Come sister. Tell me how she tastes. I’ve been curious,” Erika purred, running a hand up her sister’s side and curling inwards to cup a breast. The back of her knuckles grazing across Olivia’s nipple. The younger sister grinned as the felt the hard peak, and pinched the handmaiden between her fingers. Slowly rolling the digits, she teased the flesh of her sister, and pulled a hearty moan that filled the room from the newest member of her staff.

A low growl rumbled in Lyra’s throat, almost wolf like in its sound. Olivia felt a tremor of fear now that the moment was upon her. She felt like prey, and Lyra was a true predator.

When Lyra’s fangs sunk deep, she pulled Olivia tight to her. There was a pinch of pain, sliding deep into vein and sinew, but also a burst of surprising pleasure. She moaned hungrily, her eyes rolling back to the ceiling once more, and further until she couldn’t see. Only feel the strange sensation. The blood flowing over Lyra’s lips and her tongue. Down her throat as her nails dug into the flesh just above her hips. 

“Beautiful,” Erika’s whisper almost went unheard, her lips caressing across her sister’s shoulders. Dragging her tongue across lines she’d drawn with fingertips. It coaxed a moan from Lyra’s pressed lips, a deeply sensual sound following the earlier growl. 

Slowly, Lyra pulled back, a smile on her crimson smeared lips. Only a small trail slowly ran from the corner of her mouth. As Olivia brought herself back, she watched that small little drip sliding down her mistress’s chin. 

Leaning back, Lyra let her fingers drag downwards and along Olivia’s thighs. She pressed her leather clad palms firmly down against the bared skin until they met the stockings, savouring the parted lips that let small groans flow free upon her handmaiden. She could feel the softness of Erika’s breasts crushing against her back, until her hair drifted across her shoulders. She let her head lay back, and turned to face her sister.

Without a word, Erika leaned forward and ran her tongue along that small line of crimson. She groaned softly, then let her tongue glide across Lyra’s lips. Sampling the vintage opened before them both. Olivia watched with rapt fascination, feeling the faintest trickle running down the side of her neck, while Lyra’s hand slid into Erika’s hair. With locks running between her fingers, the two finally let their lips meet. Olivia sat upon the vanity and watched. A voyeur to rumours made beautiful flesh. Watched their lips dancing, and seeing the slick hint of tongue. 

Slowly the two turned towards each other, their arms entwining around the other, their bodied almost melding together. Had their hearts beat, there would have been an intense heat between them, their skin glistening with sweat. Instead, as Olivia reached out to run her finger’s down the length of her mistress’s spine, over Erika’s forearm, she found the same cool touch as before. Still she watched, enraptured by this new world she’d been invited into. Hired into. 

Erika’s hands slid down her sister’s back, following the same path Olivia’s had but heartbeats before. Further they glided, until first pinkies slid beneath the waistband of dark leather breeches. The tightness of the garb showing the outlines as more of the duchess’s hands slipped beneath the last layer of clothing. She clutched at her sister’s rump, and Olivia saw the slight jump in the knight. Hear the hungry groan.

Then, the hands slid upwards again, towards the shoulder blades, nails teasing along their edges. Finally the two broke away.

“She’s delicious,” Erika purred, and both sisters looked towards the handmaiden. Olivia swallowed, still sitting naked on the vanity.

“A vintage best shared,” Lyra said, flashing her predatory smirk again, and this time Olivia felt her heart flutter. She was thankful to be seated, because she wasn’t sure she’d still be standing. 

Both sisters reached out, taking her hands, and pulling her towards them. She was powerless against their strength, but let herself be pulled so easily. Stumbling into Lyra’s arms, Erika at her back. The two vampires slid away, but each took a hand, holding her gently by just the fingers. Together they walked towards the bed, escorting her as if to a ball. Her heart pounded beneath her breast, and she knew both women could hear it. Sense the blood thrumming through her.

They moved together, all three, towards the bed until Olivia felt the sheer curtains dragging along her skin. She sighed at the pleasant sensation as she started to move upon her knees. The two sisters on either side of her carefully laid her down. They both smiled at her, showing their fangs, their eyes roaming her body on display. Their hands reached out, one soft and gentle, the other firm and touched with leather. Then they bent down.

Hair dragged along her breasts and thighs, as both women let their lips and tongues graze and tease. Reaching above herself, Olivia felt the goose down pillows against her fingertips. She moaned hungrily, feeling Erika’s tongue teasing around the entrance of her sex. Tasting the arousal of the handmaiden, as Lyra’s tongue lashed across stiff nipples. 

The first bite came at her breast, the fangs sinking in slowly with the painful pinch followed by the rush of pleasure. She felt the flow of blood starting, felt Lyra’s tongue dragging along the crimson smeared skin. A cool touch across her hot flesh. 

The second bite came at her thigh, with Erika leaned over her leg, hand gliding up a stocking clad calf while her hair brushed across the skin. While the sisters drank, Olivia’s fingers curled into the pillows. Gripping them tightly she let out the sounds of her pleasures. Let them carry through the room. 

Lyra released her bite first, and began kissing her way across Olivia’s chest. Each press of those cool lips a relief to her skin, sending a thrill through her. Those long, now loose locks, dragged with the playful tongue. A bevy of planted kisses crawling up the slope of a breast as a hand toyed with the first the other holding the knight just above her handmaiden. Just enough that she could feel the barest touch of the warrior’s own breasts ghosting over her. Then the fangs sunk in again, and Olivia let out a fresh moan.

Below, Erika pulled her fangs free. Her tongue slid over the holes left in the skin, groaning at the rich flavour that bathed her tongue. She climbed, moving in between Olivia’s legs, an arm over one, her shoulder pushing the other up. Her lips soon found the handmaiden’s sex, and planted a firm cool kiss. At this Olivia moaned, a sound that spiked as the vampire’s tongue pushed forth. Delving deep into the slickness of her arousal, tasting her anew. Olivia dragged the pillow towards herself, feeling her toes curl near the foot of the bed. 

While Lyra’s fingers toyed with her breast, Erika’s tongue worked hungrily. Delving deeper with each thrust it made, and dragging along those inner walls. Her lips teased at the petals of the entrance, before her tongue pulled free entirely and ran upwards along her slit to flick across the handmaiden’s clit. The shock of pleasure pulled free another moan, and Erika let her hands slip beneath the woman. Fingers clenching at her rear, the duchess let her tongue flick and rub at the handmaiden’s clitoris, earning longer and higher moans. 

Unable to resist, despite her the lightness in her head, Olivia started to buck her hips. Faster, and hungrier, Erika’s tongue lashed and dragged. Lyra’s fangs finally relented, leaving a new twin trail of crimson coursing over the soft curve of Olivia’s breast. The knight’s lips pressed around the presented nipple, sucking on it, lashing at the trapped peak with her tongue. 

Her vision was darkening. Pleasured moans seeming more distant. She could scarcely feel Lyra’s lips sliding off her breast, or the point of a fang teasing that sensitive bud. Not while her sister hungrily brought her into orgasm, making her toes curl and her scream of pleasure to fill the room. It filled the darkness, but Erika did not stop. Guiding her through the pleasures and bringing her higher. She had not the strength to bring her thighs together or to stop the duchess. 

She looked upwards, and Olivia found herself staring into balefire eyes. Her vision narrowing until that was all she could see. No words formed on the handmaiden’s lips as her world became nothing but those eyes and the pleasure between her legs that rose into the peak of climax. Her voice broke in that moment, and she barely felt the fingers brushing along her cheek, nor heard the words her mistress said.

As she descended from the heights of bliss, as the euphoria of orgasm started to bleed away, she was plunged into darkness. A fitting end for her first night in the employ of Erika and Lyra Lyv Drakhel.


End file.
